


Social Call

by DeathBelle



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Bottom!Sakusa, Canon Divergent, Everything is the same except Sakusa plays for EJP, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, PWP, Some bad flirting, light alcohol use, lots of banter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-18 10:48:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28990953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeathBelle/pseuds/DeathBelle
Summary: Sakusa didn't expect Miya Atsumu to show up on his doorstep in the middle of the night, wielding asixfour-pack of beer and a smile sharp enough to cut through Sakusa's defenses. But while Atsumu is an uninvited guest, he's certainly not an unwelcome one.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 44
Kudos: 845





	Social Call

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chaos_megami](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaos_megami/gifts).



> Happy Birthday Sundayyyy! I'm so happy you found you way back to the hq fandom, welcome home!! 🖤🖤🖤

Sakusa hated a lot of things: losing, bad hygiene, his loud teammates keeping him awake at night… the list was endless, and every single day he found something to add.

Today it was Miya Atsumu. He’d made the list back in high school, but Sakusa had believed Atsumu had matured since then.

Clearly he’d been wrong. 

“Nice try, Omi-kun.” 

Atsumu mouthed it at him from across the net as the sting of his serve burned against Sakusa’s wrists after a failed receive. Sakusa thought he had it. He’d mapped the trajectory perfectly, but it had been faster than he’d expected. He shook out his hands, pretended not to notice Atsumu’s grin as he got into position for another serve, and promised himself he would get the next one.

But Atsumu hit the next serve on the other side of the court, maybe on purpose or maybe not, and Sakusa didn’t get the chance to redeem himself.

It was a close match. EJP had the upper hand against some of the other teams in the league, but MSBY was strong. They had a roster of skilled players and they’d just picked up Hinata Shouyou, which gave them a wildcard advantage. 

They were good, but today EJP was a little bit better.

Sakusa hit the winning spike, which was great. He slammed it onto the court right beside Miya Atsumu’s outstretched hands, which was fantastic. Atsumu watched the ball bounce away, and when he looked back at Sakusa, his expression was a distorted cross between a scowl and a pout. He mumbled something under his breath as he turned away.

“Nice one, Kiyoomi!” Komori patted Sakusa’s shoulder as he passed by. The rest of his teammates agreed, some more loudly than others, but they kept their distance. 

“Thanks,” said Sakusa. He watched Atsumu sulk away toward the rest of his team and turned back to face his own. They’d worked hard for this win and he wouldn’t let Miya Atsumu ruin it. 

Sakusa liked celebrating EJP’s victories with his teammates, but his idea of celebrating didn’t always match up with everyone else’s. When he arrived at his apartment a couple of hours after the match, warm and satisfied with only a slight buzz, he knew the rest of the team would stay at the bar indefinitely.

They would also complain about their hangovers when they showed up for practice tomorrow, and Sakusa could smugly say he felt just fine.

Sakusa had showered after the match, but he never felt as clean in a communal shower and he’d been out at a public bar so he showered again in the comfort of his own apartment. The bathroom was cloaked in steam by the time he was finished and he shivered as he emerged into the cooler air of his bedroom. He turned down his neatly tucked bedsheets, stepped into his oldest sweatpants, and was halfway into a bleach-mottled t-shirt when there was a rap at the front door.

Sakusa went still, his shirt caught over his head, cool air touching his bare stomach. He listened for a few seconds and thought a neighbor must have dropped something.

The rapping came again, sharper. It was definitely from the front door.

Sakusa checked the time. It seemed too early for his teammates to have left the bar, but maybe Komori had gotten too drunk too fast and had stopped by Sakusa’s apartment since it was closer than his own. It happened rarely, but Komori had slept on Sakusa’s couch a couple of times since they’d joined EJP together. Sakusa didn’t mind much.

“Hold on,” called Sakusa, as he pulled his shirt on properly. He swept his shower-damp hair away from his face, plugged his phone in to charge on the table by his bed, and went to answer the door. He glanced at the couch as he passed by and wondered if Komori would need another blanket from the linen closet. The weather was getting cooler and Sakusa didn’t like running the heat while he slept. 

“I hope you’re not drunk enough to be sick,” said Sakusa, mostly to himself as he opened the door. “I’m not cleaning up… Oh.” 

Komori wasn’t waiting in the hallway, holding a six-pack of beer like an offering with a smile sharp enough to cut right through Sakusa’s defenses. 

Komori wasn’t, but Miya was.

“Hey there, Omi-kun,” chirped Atsumu, as if this shouldn’t have been a surprise, as if he’d been to Sakusa’s apartment a hundred times before. “Didn’t know if you’d still be up. Brought ya somethin’.” He raised the beer, and when Sakusa didn’t take it, let it hang at his side again, fingers curled into the cardboard carton. 

“How did you know I live here?” asked Sakusa, not moving out of the doorway.

“Asked around.”

Sakusa stared at him, waiting. 

Atsumu huffed. “Sunarin told me. He lives downstairs somewhere, said you’re in the same buildin’. Had to bribe him for your apartment number though.” He wielded the beer again and Sakusa realized it was actually a four-pack; two were missing.

“Good to know,” said Sakusa. “Suna is dead to me.”

Atsumu snorted as if that had been a joke. “You’re funny, Omi-kun. You gonna let me in or not?”

“Why would I?”

“Why wouldn't ya?”

That was such a stupid question that Sakusa was left blankly searching for an answer. There were a hundred reasons not to let Miya Atsumu into his apartment but Sakusa couldn’t think of a single one while Atsumu was standing right in front of him, smiling like he didn’t expect to be turned away.

Sakusa moved back to clear the doorway for Atsumu, who stepped inside happily. He kicked off his shoes and swaggered into Sakusa’s kitchen, perfectly at ease in an apartment he’d never seen. He slid the beer onto the counter, plucked one out of the carton, and offered it to Sakusa with a smile.

“Are you planning to tell me why you’re here?” asked Sakusa, unmoving.

“Like I said, brought ya somethin’.” He gently shook the beer. 

“I can only assume you poisoned that.”

Atsumu laughed again. “No way, Omi. I’m bein’ a good loser here, alright? You played a good match today. Glad you finally got outta school and got on a pro team. Makes things more interesting.”

He seemed genuine, although Sakusa couldn’t guess why. Atsumu hadn’t seemed so pleased to lose when it had happened. 

Sakusa took the beer. It was cold, as if Atsumu had picked it up on the way there. Cautiously he popped the tab of the can, bracing for an explosion, but there was only a low fizzle. Sakusa took a careful sip. It wasn’t the brand he would have bought, but it wasn’t the cheap kind either. Sakusa likely wouldn’t have drank it at all if he hadn’t already had some alcohol earlier that night. That’s what he blamed for the impaired judgment of allowing Atsumu inside his apartment, although his buzz had almost died out completely. 

“Good, huh?” asked Atsumu, as he opened another can and took a long swallow. “Me and my brother always drink this kind. Sometimes I get it when I’m at away games like this. Tastes like home, know what I mean?”

Sakusa didn’t know what he meant, and he also didn’t know why Atsumu was in his apartment. Asking questions hadn’t gotten him any solid answers yet, so Sakusa took a different approach. He took his beer to the couch, made himself comfortable, and waited. Atsumu kept talking about something that didn’t seem entirely relevant. He gravitated toward Sakusa and dropped onto the couch too, perfectly at ease. 

He kept talking. Sakusa half-listened and said nothing.

Eventually there was a pause. Sakusa took a sip of beer and waited.

“It’s cool you finally joined a pro team,” said Atsumu, repeating what he’d said earlier, “but it sucks you picked EJP. They’re alright I guess, but we’re better. You woulda done so well as a Black Jackal.”

“Right,” scoffed Sakusa. “If you didn’t notice, MSBY lost today. I don’t want to be on a losing team.”

Atsumu rolled his eyes. “Yeah, we lost ‘cause you’re on Raijin. If you were on our team we woulda beat them. We’d beat everybody. You’re a strong player, Omi. We’d be top in the division if we had you.”

“So that’s why you’re here?” said Sakusa. Of course it was. Miya Atsumu had one single braincell the shape of a miniscule volleyball. “To try and recruit me?”

“Nah, there’s no need for me to recruit ya. I know you got an offer from our team when you graduated and you picked EJP instead. Probably ‘cause of Komori, right?” Atsumu didn’t wait for an answer. “I just wanted to tell you what you’re missin’. Sure you beat us, but when you go up against the Adlers you’ll lose. No matter how good you are, your setter ain’t good enough.”

“And you think you’re better?”

“Obviously. I’ve set for ya before, Omi-kun. You know how good I am.”

Sakusa didn’t respond to that because he didn’t like lying and he wouldn’t dare admit the truth. Atsumu was a good setter, one of the best. Sakusa had known that for a long time. He’d almost gone with MSBY but had changed his mind at the last minute.

“That’s not why I’m here though,” said Atsumu. He took another drink, not looking away from Sakusa. “I mean, all of that is true, but I coulda told you that at the stadium.”

Sakusa’s beer was beginning to collect condensation. It was wet against his fingertips and he passed it to his other hand. “What do you want, then?”

“Same thing as you want, I think.” Atsumu stood from the couch and paced back to the kitchen. He discarded his empty can, but instead of getting another one he returned to the couch and plopped down, closer. He considered Sakusa with a slight frown that was a concerning contrast from his usual grin. “I saw you lookin’ at me before the match. Afterward, too. If it was the first time I’d think I was imaginin’ it, but it’s not. You’ve done it before.”

Sakusa kept his face completely blank. “I’m not allowed to look at my opponents?”

“You can look at whoever you want, but…” Atsumu’s stare dipped lower and back up again. “It’s the  _ way _ you were lookin’. I’m not stupid, Omi-kun. I know when somebody’s lookin’ at me like  _ that _ .”

Sakusa expected to be embarrassed. He should have been, because he couldn’t even say Atsumu was wrong. He hadn’t thought he’d been so obvious about it, but over the years he’d learned to appreciate Atsumu’s appearance, if not his gaudy personality. 

But Sakusa didn’t think there was any shame in it. Atsumu was obviously attractive. Anyone who met him knew that, and there was no reason for Sakusa to pretend otherwise. 

“So?” said Sakusa, neutral. “Does it make you uncomfortable?”

Atsumu’s grin unfurled with a flash of teeth. “No.”

“Why are you here, then?” repeated Sakusa, although he now thought he knew.

“’Cause you’ve never noticed that I’m lookin’ at you the same way,” said Atsumu, shameless. “So I thought I’d tell you and see if you wanted to do somethin’ about it.”

Sakusa finished his beer and put the empty can on the floor by the couch, his stare not leaving Atsumu. Usually he would never leave trash on the floor like that, but usually there was nothing to distract him. 

Miya Atsumu was definitely distracting.

“What kind of something?” asked Sakusa.

Atsumu’s grin pulled higher. “I have a few ideas.”

Sakusa took a moment to consider how inappropriate it would be to hook up with a rival player. There was probably some sort of rule against it, and if there wasn’t, it was common sense that it would be frowned upon. He shouldn’t do it. He shouldn’t even think about it.

But it wasn’t as if Sakusa would run to his coach at their next practice and tell him all about this, and despite Atsumu’s flaws, Sakusa didn’t think he would tell anyone, either. They were both in the same situation with the same level of risk.

Sakusa thought that made it more interesting.

“Tell me your ideas then,” said Sakusa. “Or you can show me.”

Atsumu’s grin was unwavering. “Omi-kun, I thought you’d never ask.” He pushed himself onto his knees to shuffle closer to Sakusa and braced one hand on the back of the couch to lean close. “You know,” he said, “I expected this to be harder. I thought you’d deny it.”

“Why would I?” said Sakusa. “I’m not shy about what I want.”

“And I’m somethin’ you want?”

“If you weren’t,” said Sakusa, reaching up to curl a hand around the back of Atsumu’s neck, “I would have kicked you out by now.” Sakusa pulled him in, and the heat of Atsumu’s mouth was blistering. Atsumu kissed him with fire, with intensity, and Sakusa didn’t resist as Atsumu slung a leg over Sakusa’s thighs to perch on his lap. His hands were heavy on Sakusa’s shoulders until they threaded into his hair instead, pulling just enough to coax Sakusa’s head to a better angle. Atsumu kissed him deeply, his tongue sliding into Sakusa’s mouth, hips rocking gently. Sakusa’s hands found Atsumu’s waist and slipped beneath his shirt to graze the skin beneath. 

Atsumu hummed into Sakusa’s mouth. He pulled away just far enough to say, “Most of my ideas work best in a bed.”

“What a coincidence,” said Sakusa, licking the taste of Atsumu off of his lips. “I have a bed.”

Atsumu laughed and sat back on Sakusa’s thighs. He wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his own shirt and said, “I’m gonna take that as an invitation.”

“Take it however you’d like.”

“Yeah,” said Atsumu, eyes trailing down Sakusa’s chest to linger at the front of his sweatpants. He wasn’t hard, not yet, but Sakusa had a feeling he would be soon. “That’s the plan.”

Sakusa nudged Atsumu with a knee and Atsumu slid off of him. Sakusa stood, considered picking up his discarded can, and decided he had more pressing priorities. He stripped his shirt over his head as he went to the open doorway of his bedroom, pausing only to look back at Atsumu.

He was staring. That was what Sakusa had intended.

“If you’d prefer to stay here, I’ll start without you,” said Sakusa. He stepped into his bedroom, put his shirt aside for later, and turned to find Atsumu a few paces behind him, golden eyes bright even in the dim light.

“Nice bed you’ve got there, Omi-kun,” said Atsumu, although Sakusa didn’t think Atsumu had looked away from him long enough to appreciate it. 

“It is,” agreed Sakusa. “You should try it out.”

“Your pickup lines are lame.” Atsumu grinned as he moved closer. “You can do better.”

“You just told me I have a nice bed,” said Sakusa flatly, as Atsumu’s hand touched his hip. “You’re not as clever as you think. Besides, I don’t need a pickup line. You’re already here.”

“Well yeah, but I didn’t think I’d get this far,” said Atsumu. His fingers dipped beneath the edge of Sakusa’s sweatpants, just barely. “Didn’t even know if you’d let me in.” His hand crept lower, palming over the curve of Sakusa’s ass. “But since ya did, maybe you’ll let me in again, if you know what I mean.”

“I changed my mind.” Sakusa yanked Atsumu’s hand out of his pants. “I’m not doing this if you’re going to keep saying things like  _ that _ .”

Atsumu laughed and caught Sakusa’s arm as he moved to turn away. “C’mon Omi, I’m jokin’. I’ll stop talkin’ if you kiss me.”

“You’ll also stop talking if I kick you out.”

“Yeah, but you don’t wanna do that.”

Sakusa sighed. Regrettably, Atsumu was right. Sakusa grabbed a handful of Atsumu’s shirt, yanked him in, and kissed him until Atsumu didn’t have enough breath to say a single word. 

A few steps and some careful pushing took them to the bed and Sakusa found himself on his back, pinned beneath Atsumu’s impressive weight with a hot mouth on his neck and a hand down his pants.

“You must use some fancy fuckin’ soap,” said Atsumu, as he sucked down the column of Sakusa’s throat. “You smell amazing.”

That was a ridiculous compliment, and yet Sakusa’s hardening cock twitched against Atsumu’s kneading fingers. “I don’t want to know how disgusting your past hookups have been if soap is all it takes to impress you.”

“I’m sure impressed,” said Atsumu. He glided his free hand down Sakusa’s chest, dragging slowly over a nipple, before dipping his head to lick at Sakusa’s collarbones. “Not ‘cause of the soap, though.”

“You’re already in my bed. You don’t have to flatter me.”

“Yeah, well. Maybe I want to anyway.” Atsumu moved lower, his tongue flicking against Sakusa’s nipple in a way that made his dick twitch again. Then Atsumu was gone, his mouth and his hand and his weight. He leaned off the edge of Sakusa’s bed to yank open a drawer of the bedside table. “This is where I keep mine too,” said Atsumu, reaching into Sakusa’s stash. “Top drawer seems too desperate, bottom drawer is too hard to reach. Middle is perfect.”

Sakusa huffed a breath through his nose and rolled onto his side. Atsumu’s ass was in the air, appealing in the tight fit of his jeans, and Sakusa reached out to squeeze it. Atsumu made a low sound and pushed against Sakusa’s hand, fumbling as he sifted through the bedside drawer. 

Sakusa squeezed harder. “Am I distracting you, Miya?”

“Nah. I’m good. I’m great. I’m-  _ ahh _ .” He twitched as Sakusa’s hand slipped between his legs, although the denim must have muted most of the feeling against his cock. “Shit, Omi.”

Sakusa pulled his hand back so Atsumu could get what he needed. He did, and when he rolled back toward Sakusa, his pupils were blown wider.

“Can I take your pants off?” asked Atsumu, already reaching for them.

Sakusa hummed, noncommittal, but raised his hips as Atsumu stripped him. Atsumu took Sakusa’s underwear too, and remained transfixed on Sakusa even as he tossed the clothes aside.

“Always thought you’d have a nice dick,” said Atsumu. He touched a fingertip just below the head of Sakusa’s cock, tracing it down to the base. Sakusa’s hips stuttered into the feeling. “I see I was right.”

“How much time do you spend thinking about my dick?” asked Sakusa. He was very aware that Atsumu was fully clothed while he was completely bare. 

“Enough to be flattering but not creepy,” said Atsumu with a grin. He rubbed a thumb over the tip of Sakusa’s cock before reaching for the lube he’d excavated from the bedside drawer. “You know you’ve thought about mine too, don’t lie.”

There may have been an occasion or two when Sakusa had thought he’d seen the outline of Atsumu’s cock through his shorts during a match and he may have reminisced about it afterward. He didn’t think there was any need to mention that.

“And if ya haven’t,” said Atsumu as he lubed up his fingers, “you’ll always be thinkin’ about it after tonight.”

Sakusa rolled his eyes, but spread his knees as Atsumu moved closer. “Overconfidence is unattractive, Miya.”

“I’m not overconfident.” Atsumu reached between Sakusa’s legs, pressed a slick finger against him, and grinned. “I’m the exact right amount of confident. I’ll prove it.”

Sakusa hoped that was true.

Atsumu mouthed at Sakusa’s thigh as his finger sank in, sucking harder than he’d done on Sakusa’s neck, clearly less concerned about leaving marks. Maybe Sakusa should have stopped him, but he didn’t mind. The thought of waking up to Atsumu’s marks on his skin wasn’t repulsive. 

Atsumu hummed against Sakusa’s thigh, licking so high that Sakusa’s hips twitched toward his mouth. “Nice and tight, Omi-kun,” said Atsumu, looking up at him through half-hooded eyes. The gleam of his stare was sinful. “Can’t wait to get in there.”

“You would be sexier if you stopped talking.”

Atsumu laughed, low and rough, and his breath was hot against Sakusa’s cock. “It must not bother you much, as hard as you are right now.” He pushed his finger in deeper, pulled it out, and squeezed in a second one. “You must think I’m pretty sexy.”

“You’re pretty,” said Sakusa, struggling to keep his voice steady as Atsumu scissored his fingers. “I’ll give you that.”

“Aww, Omi.” Atsumu stuck out his tongue, and he was so close to Sakusa’s cock that it grazed the tip. “Stop that, you’ll make me blush.”

Sakusa barely kept himself from thrusting up toward Atsumu’s mouth. Thick fingers curled inside him and Sakusa bit his lip to keep himself from making any embarrassing sounds that he would later regret.

“You’re pretty too, y’know,” said Atsumu, almost as an afterthought.

“I already said you don’t have to flatter me.” Sakusa pushed down against Atsumu’s hand.

Atsumu smiled up at him. “I’m not tryin’ to. Just sayin’ it ‘cause it’s true.” He twisted his fingers and touched his tongue to the tip of Sakusa’s dick, just barely. “You gonna ask me to suck you off?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t need to ask. You’ll do it anyway.”

Atsumu laughed, his breath dusting Sakusa’s cock. “You’re smart, Omi-kun.” 

Sakusa expected him to say something else, because it seemed Miya Atsumu never ran out of things to say. But Atsumu only winked at him – badly, both of his eyes briefly closed – and sucked Sakusa’s cock into his mouth. 

Sakusa tried to swallow back a moan but he couldn’t, not quite.

Atsumu matched him, humming around Sakusa’s dick as he thrust his fingers deeper. His tongue moved in a way that had Sakusa’s hips kicking up and Atsumu pressed down on his thigh, holding him there. He sucked his way up to the tip, teased it with his tongue, and sank down again, cheeks going hollow.

Atsumu was good at volleyball, but he may have been even better at this.

Sakusa’s hand sank into Atsumu’s hair and pulled tight; probably too tight, but Atsumu didn’t flinch away. He only took Sakusa in further, until his cock nudged at the back of Atsumu’s throat and Sakusa was no longer sure if he would last long enough to get fucked.

Maybe Atsumu sensed that, or maybe the timing was lucky. Either way he pulled off, spit stringing from the corner of his mouth as he grinned at Sakusa. His lips were wet and he wiped his mouth with his shirt as he whipped it over his head. Sakusa hadn’t even noticed Atsumu had pulled his fingers out. He hadn’t noticed anything aside from how impressively Atsumu sucked dick.

“You’re hot like this, Omi-kun,” said Atsumu, as he went up on his knees to work open his jeans. “Fuck. I shoulda propositioned ya a long time ago.”

“I would’ve said no,” lied Sakusa. “I only agreed tonight because I’m a little drunk.”

“Drunk,” repeated Atsumu, shoving his jeans down to his thighs. “Sure ya are.” He flopped onto his back to kick his clothes off. “Guess I should leave then, huh? Don’t wanna take advantage of ya.”

“Go ahead.” Sakusa curled a hand around his own cock, slick with Atsumu’s spit. It should have been disgusting, but it sent another spiral of heat straight to his gut as he stroked himself. “I can finish without you.”

Atsumu paused, one hand outstretched for the condom he’d tossed aside, eyes stuck to the pull of Sakusa’s hand. “Yeah?” he said, stare unwavering as he felt for the condom. He blindly opened it and rolled it onto himself, entranced by Sakusa. “As much as I’d like to see that, I’d like to fuck ya more.”

“Stop staring and fuck me then,” said Sakusa, his knees falling further apart in invitation.

Atsumu crawled close to Sakusa and nestled between his thighs, a warm hand sliding up Sakusa’s leg to hook at his hip. His stare was dark, hungry. “For real though,” said Atsumu, “you’re not drunk, right? If you’re gonna regret this tomorrow, tell me now and I’ll leave.”

He said that as if he was serious, as if he would legitimately walk away.

Sakusa rolled his eyes, but his tone was less sharp than usual as he said, “Don’t be stupid, Miya. No amount of alcohol is potent enough to make me fuck you. Only bad judgment can do that.”

Atsumu huffed a laugh, his grin returning as he shifted in closer. His cock slid against Sakusa’s as he stretched over him, an elbow braced by Sakusa’s shoulder, Atsumu’s mouth only a breath away from Sakusa’s. “I don’t think you mean that. I think ya like me.”

“I’d like you more if you would shut your mouth and fuck me already.”

“So crude, Omi-kun.” Atsumu nosed along Sakusa’s jaw, breathed hot against his neck. “But that’s fine. Say whatever you want, your dick doesn’t lie.” He reached between them to squeeze Sakusa’s hard cock. Sakusa jolted, but settled back down as Atsumu moved his hips. The head of his dick pressed against Sakusa. “You want me pretty bad, huh?”

Sakusa pushed his hips up and Atsumu slid inside him, just a little. Both of them inhaled. 

“Oh fuck,” said Atsumu, looking down between them in amazement. “Shit. You feel so…” He eased in further, slowly, a blush blooming across his cheeks. His eyes were bright, lips shiny, as he returned his gaze to Sakusa.

“If you say something embarrassing, we’re stopping,” said Sakusa, although he wasn’t sure if he could stop no matter what stupid thing came out of Atsumu’s mouth. He dug his hands into Atsumu’s ass and pulled him in, the stretch smoothed by lube, Atsumu’s cock thicker than Sakusa had expected. Sakusa’s head fell back as it sank all the way in, hot and solid and so satisfying that Sakusa’s dick throbbed.

Atsumu panted into Sakusa’s neck, his hair damp with sweat where it touched Sakusa’s jawline. One of his hands was still tight at Sakusa’s hip, blunt nails pricking the skin. “Fuck, Omi-kun.”

“Are you about to come already?” asked Sakusa. He rocked up against Atsumu carefully, and despite the stretch, it didn’t hurt. “That’s pathetic, Miya.”

Atsumu laughed, low and breathless. “You say that like you weren’t two seconds away from coming when my mouth was on your dick.” He pushed himself onto an elbow to grin down at Sakusa. He already looked a little fucked out, but Sakusa thought he probably did, too. “I can’t help you’re hot, Omi-kun. Or that you feel like  _ this _ .”

“If you come before I do, I’m never letting you in my bed again.” Sakusa rolled up against him, more insistently. “Make it count.”

“Challenge accepted.” Atsumu braced his knees on the bed and gave a cautious thrust. When Sakusa didn’t complain, he gave another, this one harder.

“I can fuck myself on my fingers better than that,” said Sakusa.

“Can you shut up?” Another thrust. “I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“Don’t worry. Your dick isn’t  _ that _ big.”

Atsumu snorted. “You’re the fuckin’ worst, Omi.” But he was still smiling, just slightly, as he pulled back and slammed into Sakusa with a slap of skin against skin, the impact stealing Sakusa’s breath. Pleasure sparked deep in his gut, buzzing straight to his cock as Atsumu fucked into him. He wasn’t careful about it now. His hips kicked forward sharply, each thrust hitting deep. Atsumu mouthed at Sakusa’s neck, his tongue hot, teeth sharp as they grazed the skin. 

A moan was caught in Sakusa’s chest, heavy and dirty and desperate. He fought it back, kept it under control.

Atsumu hooked a hand beneath Sakusa’s knee, folded it toward his chest, and fucked him harder.

The new angle was divine. Sakusa felt more open and exposed, and when he finally moaned, Atsumu was there to lick the sound right out of his mouth.

“That’s it, Omi,” said Atsumu, his lips touching Sakusa’s as he spoke. “Let go and let me fuck ya.” He hitched Sakusa’s leg up further, slowly, until it was flush against Sakusa’s own chest. Atsumu made a sound half between a moan and a whine, dipping his tongue into Sakusa’s mouth for another taste. 

Atsumu’s stamina was impressive on the court, and it was just as good in bed. Each thrust came just as sharp as the last, his pace relentless, cock striking deep inside Sakusa until his back arched clear off of the mattress.

“ _ Miya _ …”

Atsumu had made his way down to Sakusa’s collarbones. He sucked hard, and Sakusa knew there would be a bruise. “It’s sexier to call me by my name while I’m fuckin’ ya, Omi.”

If Sakusa had retained the ability to think clearly, he would’ve said something about the hypocrisy of still calling him by a nickname. But he’d lost that a while ago, so he pushed a breathy “ _ Atsumu _ ” through numb limbs and was rewarded with a long, slow lick to his nipple.

“Fuck, you’re gettin’ tighter,” said Atsumu. He sucked Sakusa’s nipple until he squirmed away. “You close, Omi-kun? Want me to help you out there?”

Sakusa hissed a breath through his teeth and reached for his own cock. Atsumu batted his hand away, said “I’m just playin’, I’ve got you,” and wrapped a hand around Sakusa’s throbbing dick.

Sakusa arched into the contact, hips bucking into Atsumu’s touch. He was hazy and desperate and needed to get off  _ now _ . “Faster,” he said, his voice thready. “ _ Atsumu _ .”

“Yeah, I hear ya.” He was clearly aiming for playful but he was just as desperate as Sakusa. He fisted Sakusa’s cock, still thrusting into him, his breath wet against Sakusa’s mouth as Atsumu took another kiss. 

Sakusa licked against Atsumu’s tongue, struggled between rocking into Atsumu’s hand and pushing back against his dick, and squeezed his knees around Atsumu’s waist as his orgasm blossomed.

“Atsumu…  _ Atsumu _ …”

“That’s right, Omi. C’mon. Come for me.”

Sakusa was helpless not to. 

He came with a pitched moan, muffled against Atsumu’s lips. His cock jumped in Atsumu’s hand and sprayed liquid heat over his stomach. Atsumu slowed down but didn’t stop, pumping Sakusa until he ran dry, his thrusts smoothing to a stop. He braced himself on a sturdy arm to stare down at Sakusa, taking in the mess between them. He refocused on Sakusa’s face and Sakusa didn’t know how blissed out he looked, but Atsumu seemed to like it.

“Oh  _ fuck _ , Omi.” Atsumu released him, unmindful of the come on his hand as he slid out of Sakusa and fumbled with the edge of the condom. “Can I… can I come on you? Please? Fuck, you look so good right now.”

Sakusa scrunched his nose. He tried to look as revolted as he should have felt, but he was still floating, still amazed by the orgasm that Miya Atsumu, of all people, had just punched out of him.

“That’s disgusting,” said Sakusa, his voice weak. “Sure. Do it.”

Atsumu moaned, and there was a rasp to his voice that made Sakusa want to taste his mouth again.

“You’re so fuckin’ gorgeous, Omi,” said Atsumu, babbling the words as if he couldn’t stop himself. He gripped his own cock, hand slick with Sakusa’s come, and stroked himself. “And you felt so good squeezin’ around me when you came. Shit. I’ve thought about this so many times. I didn’t know it’d be this good, didn’t think you’d ever…  _ fuck _ .” Atsumu’s hand flew on his cock as he pumped himself, curling in on himself, free hand digging into the sheets. His eyes had closed but he forced them open again, to look at the mess across Sakusa’s stomach, to focus on his face. “Omi…”

He was so close to the edge that Sakusa could see it in his eyes, hear it in the rasp of his exhales. Sakusa pushed himself up on his elbows, putting himself closer despite his body’s insistence that he collapse.

Sakusa said, quietly, “What are you waiting for, Atsumu? I thought you wanted to come on me.”

That was all it took. Atsumu’s groan was muffled through clenched teeth as he peaked. Come splashed onto Sakusa’s stomach, muddling in with his own mess. A pair of stripes fell neatly across Sakusa’s softening cock, hot and wet. 

Atsumu’s face was sinful; slack mouth, red cheeks, hazy eyes.

If Sakusa hadn’t been wrung dry, he would’ve tried to go again. 

“Fuck,” said Atsumu under his breath as he dropped onto his ass. His thighs were shaking. Sakusa wanted to touch them, but couldn’t make himself move. “That was… damn, Omi. That was great.”

“It wasn’t bad.”

Atsumu grinned at him, but he was too blissed-out to be smug. “Takin’ that as a compliment.” Atsumu got his knees beneath him, as if he intended to stand up, but gave in and slouched onto his side instead. He stretched out across Sakusa’s bed and stared vaguely at the ceiling. “We should do this again sometime.”

Sakusa thought about that. It would have seemed like a bad idea before he’d been fucked into ecstasy. “Maybe we should.”

Atsumu smiled. “So are you gonna kick me out or let me stay over?”

“Depends,” said Sakusa. He pushed a handful of sweaty curls out of his face. “Can you sleep quietly?”

“Of course. I’m great at sleepin’.”

He said nothing about the  _ quietly _ part, but Sakusa was too tired to push. “You can stay if you make tea. I’d like some before bed.”

“Can you wait five minutes ‘til I can stand up?” said Atsumu, arms flopping to his sides. “And maybe after I shower?”

Sakusa pretended to consider that and realized his eyes had closed only when he blinked them open again. “I suppose.”

“Wanna shower with me?” asked Atsumu, his grin clear in his voice. “I’ll help get ya all cleaned up.”

Sakusa made a low, noncommittal sound. 

A few minutes later, Sakusa blinked out of a doze as Atsumu rolled to the edge of the bed. “What kinda tea?” asked Atsumu, not bothering to redress. “Guess I should go ahead and make it since you’re already sleepin’.”

“I’m not asleep,” mumbled Sakusa. “Chamomile. Helps me relax.”

Atsumu breathed a laugh. “I don’t think you need any help relaxin’, Omi. You’re practically meltin’ into the bed. Go get a shower and I’ll put the tea on, alright?”

Sakusa murmured an agreement and watched through half-closed eyes as Atsumu left the room. 

He wondered if the tea would be passable or if it would end up poured down the kitchen drain. 

Sakusa thought if Atsumu made tea half as good as he fucked, it would be just fine.


End file.
